


The Northern Giant

by Wavelet



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4527021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wavelet/pseuds/Wavelet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petyr Baelish was dead: killed by the only person in the world he truly trusted.  And then he woke up in the body of Eddard Stark, on the morning of the Lord of Winterfell's wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Northern Giant

**The Northern Giant**

“You must miss your father terribly, I know. Lord Eddard was a brave man, honest and loyal…but quite a hopeless player.”

**The Giant**

He was choking, swallowing convulsively, as he gasped for air. She had been at his side immediately, as he had collapsed to the ground, tears in her eyes.

_Lies, but far better ones._

“Petyr, Petyr! Please, just breathe!”

_'S-San-'_ he tried to speak, but the words would not come. He could not breathe.

Poison: that was the answer, but he was too late in coming to it. He had not seen when she slipped the black amethyst into his goblet, had never expected it. Not from her.

Stupid. She'd betrayed him: just like Cat. And now he was dead, murdered by the very poison he had placed into her hands. Petyr suspected that he would appreciate the irony more if this were happening to anyone else.

He was gasping. He could not draw breath. He was-

Petyr Baelish sat up in his bed with a sudden start, his hands convulsively clawing at his throat, while his breath came in greedy gulps. His heart beat like the hooves of a racing destrier against his chest, as his mind frantically tried to reconcile his memories with the reality he now faced.

He was alive.

“M'lord Stark, are you alright? We heard shouting.”

A voice at the door, along with knocking: the man had called him Stark.

_Where am I? I've never seen this room before._

“M'lord? Are you alright, M'lord?”

The voice was more insistent this time, so he replied, if only to quiet the man, so that he could think.

“I'm fine,” he replied curtly, but the voice which came out of his mouth was not his own.

_Who?_

Then the memories flooded in, very nearly washing away Petyr Baelish, they came with such force. But he would not be washed away. He clung to himself, to all he had accomplished, despite every obstacle, and to the miracle of his seeming return to life after death. After all that, he could not allow himself to disappear here.

“It was only a nightmare, Beren. Sorry to trouble you,” he finally replied, as the tide of memories eventually began to ebb.

“As you say, M'lord.”

Then, after a long moment, Petyr Baelish smiled, and Eddard Stark's lips quirked up in a self-satisfied grin. He had not believed in any gods before today, but, after this, he supposed he would have to start. Fortunately, they seemed positively disposed towards him, and no doubt his pious young betrothed would be willing to speak to him of her faith as they got to know each other after their wedding later today.

_This time, **she** will be my wife, and **she** will be my daughter._

This had not been quite how he ever planned to take everything from Stark, but Petyr Baelish was nothing if not adaptable.


End file.
